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Beatrice & Sharon | Clever Girl
Beatrice wakes to a surprise in the form of Sharon Smith.
The steady thrum was emanating from the vicinity of her calf. From a small ball of purple fur, in fact, sitting atop her sheets and just barely in contact with her uninjured leg. A cat, dozing.
"Jessica doesn't have a cat." Beatrice mumbled, voice raspy from sleep but edged sharply as she blinked down at the curled up creature. She must have been more tired than she realized. Her left arm began to pulse in pain as she continued to use it to prop herself up. Behind her lips she grit her teeth. “But you didn’t throw cereal all over the floor so you’re already a better roommate.”
The cat looked up at her, thrum briefly increasing in agreement. Yawning, the animal got to its feet, stretched long, and then disappeared over the side of the bed.
"Unhygienic woman," came a voice from below Beatrice's field of vision, "But useful for emergency snacks."
A huge feline -- thing -- stepped into view. It was the size of a mountain lion, but no mountain lion was purple, and nor did they have a pair of upsettingly human hands. As Beatrice watched the cat padded closer to the head of her bed and sat.
"You have a fever," it stated. It lifted a hand and began to lick. "Very warm. But concerning for infection. I will fetch doctor if you wish."
She laid back on her bed, head propped up on her pillows as she looked at the much larger cat with clear amusement on her face. Finally, like a sigh she responded. "Well aren't you full of surprises, little purple cat."
Blowing stray locks of blonde hair out of her face she took inventory of herself. Yes, she was warm, but that was to be expected, and it wasn't helped by her sleeping under the sheet and blanket. But she would not sacrifice comfort for some silly little injury. "I wanna make sure nothing tore before I go and worry the doctors," Bea's words were still slow, bordering on simpering as she began to pull the covers off to inspect.
"I am Sharon. I am very surprising." The cat was watching her, the end of her tail was twitching slowly. "And you are Beatrice. Beginning to wonder about this suite. Keeps being filled with injured women."
"They don't want us running away." The joke had too much bite, but to smooth it over, she flashed a conspiratorial smile and giggled. Then her eyes dropped back to her own body, and she didn't stop her grimace as she stared at the bandages. "Nothing torn, Sharon. But I should get some fever reliever, and I don't think we have any. Would you walk me down?" She raised her gaze to make contact, demure but hopeful.
An ear flicked as Sharon tilted her head. "You are too weak?"
“Easily winded,” she breathed the truth. “I could make it but it would be slower and I’d have to take a lot more breaks if I had no one to lean on.”
Sitting up, she turned so her legs dangled over the edge, slowly, deliberately, before looking at Sharon. The bandages hadn’t leaked but the sight was… well if people had weak stomached that was on them if they looked at them. “How good is your nose? I used to know a feral who could smell when I was sick. Can you smell the infection? Is it bad?”
Sharon padded closer, pink nose raised. She sniffed delicately.
"Here." Sharon pointed to an area on Beatrice's bandaged left arm. "Was a dirty wound, maybe. Antibiotics would be best. I shall help."
The cat reared up on her hind legs, and her body flowed. An instant later a tall girl in a loose charcoal romper stood beside the bed. She was easily a foot taller than the diminutive blonde. A clawed hand was extended.
"I shall help," Sharon repeated.
“Full of surprises,” she repeated softly as she gently took the proffered hand and raised herself to her feet. If she truly was surprised, it didn't show. The fracture still hurt — a lot of things still hurt — so allowing her weight to be supported was a relief. Her steps were a little quicker, though, to keep pace with Sharon's longer gait.
"You're right." Beatrice hummed in thought as they moved. "I didn't think about antibiotics enough, and sweat and travel did nothing to help to keep it clean and the infection managed. I was foolish." It wasn't self-deprecating, it was spoken factually before finally she sighed. She looked down at her clothing, or, well, lack of, in her sleep tank top and shorts that had been given to her by a member of the medical team. "Hm, I should probably put on something more than my pajamas, but they give fine access to the wounds."
"Your little transformation clothing is lovely, maybe I'll ask about getting one for myself." Honeyed words as she looked at Sharon with an analytic eye. "Kitty cat to a werecat to a tall young woman, you're very talented to do it so fluently."
"I am very talented," the younger woman agreed as they made their way down the halls. She held Beatrice's uninjured arm with her tail wrapped lightly around the other woman's waist for extra support. Yellow eyes met Beatrice's measuring gaze with one of their own. "You also, I think."
"I am also very talented, yes." No argument, instead her amusement returned, a fondness maybe shining. She leaned a little more into Sharon's arm as another resident of the mansion made their way past, breathing slowed and she focused on her steps.
"Have been watching you. Badly hurt, yes, but maybe show it just a little more when other people are looking." There was no accusation in the other woman's tone, simple matter-of-factness. Despite her size her bare feet on the floor were almost soundless. "Logical. You do not know people or how they will react. So even if you are weak you present as more pathetic still. Odds of being turned away further decreased." She added, without shame, "I did this also."
"Keeps the stress down so I can heal sooner," Beatrice said the words softly, thoughtfully as she tried to think of putting it into words, with her eyes cast down. Then she raised her eyes back up to the yellow gaze. "I admit, you're impress me, that doesn't happen often. I'm so sorry to hear that you had to resort to such tactics. You look so young."
Sharon waved her off, though she was clearly pleased with the compliment. "In retrospect, did not have to. But had no way of knowing at the time, so I have no regrets. Does not count as lying if it is your life." The tail around Beatrice's waist flicked. "Or if you are very bored and other person is very gullible."
"Hmmmm, yes, I can understand that logic, especially when you don't know what you'll be getting into. I was very lucky to be helped by Mr. Centino and Mr. Haller, there's no lie there." She watched the tail with interest, allowing Sharon to guide them. "I hope you weren't terribly injured when you arrived, it can't be easy when you're also a shifter. I fear my concussion messed up my sleep schedule something fierce, and I can't imagine it's helped any."
They arrived at the elevator. Sharon uncurled her tail from Beatrice's waist and casually used it to press the Down button like an eleventh finger. "Uninjured, only malnourished. Sooraya and Alani accepted petition for sanctuary. Kind people here. Was well taken care of. Will care for you also, I think."
The doors dinged open. Sharon helped the blonde into the elevator. It may or may not have been a coincidence that she waited for the doors to close on them before she asked, "Your intentions in this place -- what are they?"
“There it is. You’re a very smart kitty, though to be honest, I’ve always founds cats tend to know best of anyone.” Her smile showed a flash of teeth as she tilted her head at the young woman. Her free hand held the rail as she leaned back to take a deep breath. A slight roll of movement in her body caused a soft crack as her spine righted itself. A relief. “I want something that they want, just a little more than them, so I’m going to help them achieve it. It’s what got me injured, and I really do hate being hurt.”
There was a number of things she could have said, but she’d never found false assurance tasteful. “I don’t want anyone here getting hurt either, I’ve no interest in being out on the street.”
Sharon regarded her with her slitted golden eyes. The tip of her tail danced this way and that, a thoughtful metronome. Then she nodded.
"Mutualism. This is logical also. And you can be safe here while you recover." Shifting her gaze back to the elevator doors, Sharon pushed her purple hair from her face in a motion reminiscent of a cat rubbing at its ear. "I also do not want to be out on the street," she confided. "There are parasites. Last time required flea dip and deworming. So many pills."
Pleased at the response, Beatrice gave a nod of her own. “Exactly, dear.”
Then came the creased brows as she looked up at the girl. “I can only imagine. It’s never fun to have parasites attach themselves to you, the clean up is a mess. Glad you got medicated, though. I didn’t want to assume that you’d gotten anything but at least they took it seriously and got you taken care of.”
When the elevator dinged again to inform its occupants of their arrival, she used her hold on the girl’s arm to right her self. “Ready?”
The steady thrum was emanating from the vicinity of her calf. From a small ball of purple fur, in fact, sitting atop her sheets and just barely in contact with her uninjured leg. A cat, dozing.
"Jessica doesn't have a cat." Beatrice mumbled, voice raspy from sleep but edged sharply as she blinked down at the curled up creature. She must have been more tired than she realized. Her left arm began to pulse in pain as she continued to use it to prop herself up. Behind her lips she grit her teeth. “But you didn’t throw cereal all over the floor so you’re already a better roommate.”
The cat looked up at her, thrum briefly increasing in agreement. Yawning, the animal got to its feet, stretched long, and then disappeared over the side of the bed.
"Unhygienic woman," came a voice from below Beatrice's field of vision, "But useful for emergency snacks."
A huge feline -- thing -- stepped into view. It was the size of a mountain lion, but no mountain lion was purple, and nor did they have a pair of upsettingly human hands. As Beatrice watched the cat padded closer to the head of her bed and sat.
"You have a fever," it stated. It lifted a hand and began to lick. "Very warm. But concerning for infection. I will fetch doctor if you wish."
She laid back on her bed, head propped up on her pillows as she looked at the much larger cat with clear amusement on her face. Finally, like a sigh she responded. "Well aren't you full of surprises, little purple cat."
Blowing stray locks of blonde hair out of her face she took inventory of herself. Yes, she was warm, but that was to be expected, and it wasn't helped by her sleeping under the sheet and blanket. But she would not sacrifice comfort for some silly little injury. "I wanna make sure nothing tore before I go and worry the doctors," Bea's words were still slow, bordering on simpering as she began to pull the covers off to inspect.
"I am Sharon. I am very surprising." The cat was watching her, the end of her tail was twitching slowly. "And you are Beatrice. Beginning to wonder about this suite. Keeps being filled with injured women."
"They don't want us running away." The joke had too much bite, but to smooth it over, she flashed a conspiratorial smile and giggled. Then her eyes dropped back to her own body, and she didn't stop her grimace as she stared at the bandages. "Nothing torn, Sharon. But I should get some fever reliever, and I don't think we have any. Would you walk me down?" She raised her gaze to make contact, demure but hopeful.
An ear flicked as Sharon tilted her head. "You are too weak?"
“Easily winded,” she breathed the truth. “I could make it but it would be slower and I’d have to take a lot more breaks if I had no one to lean on.”
Sitting up, she turned so her legs dangled over the edge, slowly, deliberately, before looking at Sharon. The bandages hadn’t leaked but the sight was… well if people had weak stomached that was on them if they looked at them. “How good is your nose? I used to know a feral who could smell when I was sick. Can you smell the infection? Is it bad?”
Sharon padded closer, pink nose raised. She sniffed delicately.
"Here." Sharon pointed to an area on Beatrice's bandaged left arm. "Was a dirty wound, maybe. Antibiotics would be best. I shall help."
The cat reared up on her hind legs, and her body flowed. An instant later a tall girl in a loose charcoal romper stood beside the bed. She was easily a foot taller than the diminutive blonde. A clawed hand was extended.
"I shall help," Sharon repeated.
“Full of surprises,” she repeated softly as she gently took the proffered hand and raised herself to her feet. If she truly was surprised, it didn't show. The fracture still hurt — a lot of things still hurt — so allowing her weight to be supported was a relief. Her steps were a little quicker, though, to keep pace with Sharon's longer gait.
"You're right." Beatrice hummed in thought as they moved. "I didn't think about antibiotics enough, and sweat and travel did nothing to help to keep it clean and the infection managed. I was foolish." It wasn't self-deprecating, it was spoken factually before finally she sighed. She looked down at her clothing, or, well, lack of, in her sleep tank top and shorts that had been given to her by a member of the medical team. "Hm, I should probably put on something more than my pajamas, but they give fine access to the wounds."
"Your little transformation clothing is lovely, maybe I'll ask about getting one for myself." Honeyed words as she looked at Sharon with an analytic eye. "Kitty cat to a werecat to a tall young woman, you're very talented to do it so fluently."
"I am very talented," the younger woman agreed as they made their way down the halls. She held Beatrice's uninjured arm with her tail wrapped lightly around the other woman's waist for extra support. Yellow eyes met Beatrice's measuring gaze with one of their own. "You also, I think."
"I am also very talented, yes." No argument, instead her amusement returned, a fondness maybe shining. She leaned a little more into Sharon's arm as another resident of the mansion made their way past, breathing slowed and she focused on her steps.
"Have been watching you. Badly hurt, yes, but maybe show it just a little more when other people are looking." There was no accusation in the other woman's tone, simple matter-of-factness. Despite her size her bare feet on the floor were almost soundless. "Logical. You do not know people or how they will react. So even if you are weak you present as more pathetic still. Odds of being turned away further decreased." She added, without shame, "I did this also."
"Keeps the stress down so I can heal sooner," Beatrice said the words softly, thoughtfully as she tried to think of putting it into words, with her eyes cast down. Then she raised her eyes back up to the yellow gaze. "I admit, you're impress me, that doesn't happen often. I'm so sorry to hear that you had to resort to such tactics. You look so young."
Sharon waved her off, though she was clearly pleased with the compliment. "In retrospect, did not have to. But had no way of knowing at the time, so I have no regrets. Does not count as lying if it is your life." The tail around Beatrice's waist flicked. "Or if you are very bored and other person is very gullible."
"Hmmmm, yes, I can understand that logic, especially when you don't know what you'll be getting into. I was very lucky to be helped by Mr. Centino and Mr. Haller, there's no lie there." She watched the tail with interest, allowing Sharon to guide them. "I hope you weren't terribly injured when you arrived, it can't be easy when you're also a shifter. I fear my concussion messed up my sleep schedule something fierce, and I can't imagine it's helped any."
They arrived at the elevator. Sharon uncurled her tail from Beatrice's waist and casually used it to press the Down button like an eleventh finger. "Uninjured, only malnourished. Sooraya and Alani accepted petition for sanctuary. Kind people here. Was well taken care of. Will care for you also, I think."
The doors dinged open. Sharon helped the blonde into the elevator. It may or may not have been a coincidence that she waited for the doors to close on them before she asked, "Your intentions in this place -- what are they?"
“There it is. You’re a very smart kitty, though to be honest, I’ve always founds cats tend to know best of anyone.” Her smile showed a flash of teeth as she tilted her head at the young woman. Her free hand held the rail as she leaned back to take a deep breath. A slight roll of movement in her body caused a soft crack as her spine righted itself. A relief. “I want something that they want, just a little more than them, so I’m going to help them achieve it. It’s what got me injured, and I really do hate being hurt.”
There was a number of things she could have said, but she’d never found false assurance tasteful. “I don’t want anyone here getting hurt either, I’ve no interest in being out on the street.”
Sharon regarded her with her slitted golden eyes. The tip of her tail danced this way and that, a thoughtful metronome. Then she nodded.
"Mutualism. This is logical also. And you can be safe here while you recover." Shifting her gaze back to the elevator doors, Sharon pushed her purple hair from her face in a motion reminiscent of a cat rubbing at its ear. "I also do not want to be out on the street," she confided. "There are parasites. Last time required flea dip and deworming. So many pills."
Pleased at the response, Beatrice gave a nod of her own. “Exactly, dear.”
Then came the creased brows as she looked up at the girl. “I can only imagine. It’s never fun to have parasites attach themselves to you, the clean up is a mess. Glad you got medicated, though. I didn’t want to assume that you’d gotten anything but at least they took it seriously and got you taken care of.”
When the elevator dinged again to inform its occupants of their arrival, she used her hold on the girl’s arm to right her self. “Ready?”